Eddie Vedder at Hammersmith Apollo (Night 1)

Eddie Vedder
Glen Hansard
Hammersmith Apollo, 6 June 2017

Wow, this was one sad but beautiful show. Ever since I heard about Chris Cornell's suicide these Eddie Vedder shows became so much more important to me. Not only because of the strong connections between Chris Cornell and Pearl Jam and the fact that Eddie was one of his best friends but because I knew I would be among fans who felt the same way. Whether Eddie chose to say anything about it or not, I knew - we all did - that his death would weigh heavy over these performances. It was a way for us fans to mourn together led by someone who knew and loved him well.

Some thought the tour would be cancelled coming so soon after his death and then the funeral was the day before the first show in Amsterdam. Instead, without any annoucement, Vedder didn't go to the funeral and the dates went ahead as scheduled. During the first few shows it appears Eddie couldn't bring himself to mention it but he spoke of using music to heal and many of the songs seemed to be about him. Still, even though the fans understood, everyone was still waiting for him to finally say something about it.

And tonight he did.

Near the end of the show he brought his friend Glen Hansard on, who was opening for him tonight, and finally he opened up. "Sometimes it's hard to concentrate these days," he told us, mentioning how his mind was wandering thinking about the history of the venue. Then he admitted: "So I haven't really been talking about some things and  now it feels like it's conspicuous because I lost a really close friend of mine." Vedder's voice was breaking at this point and the applause at this mention of Cornell allowed him to gather his thoughts. "I'll say this too, I grew up as four boys: four brothers and I lost my brother two years ago tragically like that in an accident and after that and losing a few other people, I'm not good at it, meaning I'm not...I have not been willing to accept the reality and that's just how I'm dealing with it." 

The whole crowd was so silent at this point (apart from a couple of ill-advised and well-intended shouts of "We love you Eddie") and I must admit I felt the tears starting to flow. "I want to be there for the family, be there for the community, be there for my brothers in my band, certainly the brothers in his band. But these things will take time but my friend is going to be gone forever and I will just have to...These things take time and I just want to send this out to everyone who was affected by it and they all back home and here appreciate it so deeply the support and the good thoughts of a man who was a ... you know he wasn't just a friend he was someone I looked up to like my older brother."

At this point I was so glad that his friend Glen was there with him and he put his hand on Eddie's shoulder to offer support. I did wonder if it had been Glen who had encouraged him to speak about it because their friendship began with Eddie supporting Hansard when a fan committed suicide in front of him.

Even though it was obvious it was very difficult for him to speak about it, Eddie went on: "About two days after the news, I think it was the second night we were sleeping in this little cabin near the water, a place he would've loved. And all these memories started coming in about 1:30am like woke me up. Like big memories, memories I would think about all the time. Like the memories were big muscles. And then I couldn't stop the memories. And trying to sleep it was like if the neighbours had the music playing and you couldn't stop it. But then it was fine because then it got into little memories. It just kept going and going and going. And I realised how lucky I was to have hours worth of...you know if each of these memories was quick and I had hours of them. How fortunate was I? And I didn't want to be sad, I wanted to be grateful not sad. I'm still thinking about those memories and I will live with those memories in my heart and I will [his voice breaks] love him forever." 

It was so moving and beautiful and an utterly perfect tribute to a dear friend and an artist who we, the fans, loved and admired so much. It was so lovely that he allowed us to share in his grief like that and I'm so glad I was there to witness it. It helped so much and that one small speech will go down as one of my most special yet saddest concert memories, even more poignant than when my friends and I went to see Madder Rose the week Kurt Cobain died still reeling from the first time we had ever dealt with the death of one of our idols. 

Thank you Eddie for sharing this with us. 

The next few songs were very emotional, starting with a duet on Glen's Song Of Good Hope (after Eddie had to go and wipe the tears from his eyes). They then attempted to do a ukulele version of the Everly Brothers' Sleepless Nights dedicated to George Harrison but when Eddie messed up the ukulele part they abandoned it, with Vedder telling us "I don't think I should be driving right now". Hansard gamely took the reins, taking up his acoustic guitar, and the pair sang the most beautiful version of Falling Slowly with Eddie singing harmonies. It was all such an amazing tribute to Cornell, even if his name was not mentioned.

The truth is the whole show was haunted by his presence. Even when Vedder first took to the stage, he looked distressed and his voice took a while to warm up, sounding deep and scratchy at first. He didn't even speak for quite a while, taking us through some very forlorn and plaintive songs from Daniel Johnston's Walking The Cow, Cat Stevens' Trouble and Pearl Jam's Sometimes. Thumbing My Way, was especially sad with lyrics like "No matter how cold the winter, there's a springtime ahead
I'm thumbing my way back to heaven, I wish that I could hold you, I wish that I had, Thinking 'bout heaven". I think Cornell was on everyone's minds when he sang this.

There were some sweet, funny and joyful moments too. One of the best came when Vedder took out a really cheap ukulele and sang a funny tribute song to the instrument called Ukulele Anthem and then gave the ukulele to a little girl in the audience. He also got absolutely everyone in the crowd singing out loud the lyrics to Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town (the lyric "I just want to scream HELLO!" was especially powerful and wonderful).

For some of the songs Vedder had brought the Red Limo String Quartet along with him from Amsterdam. They accompanied him on a cover of Here Comes The Sun, a snippet of Bowie's Heroes (it's a shame there wasn't more because it sounded incredible) and Pearl Jam's Just Breathe.

All the mentions of George Harrison became obvious (he also played It's A Pity on the pump organ) when Dhani, George's son, came on stage at the end to play Neil Young's Rockin' In The Free World with Eddie and Glen. Vedder also dragged out Olivia Harrison (George's wife and Dhani's mother) to serenade her for the encore, sweetly singing Dream A Little Dream Of Me to the embarrassed but delighted-looking Olivia and ending the night on a moment of love and hope. Which is what we all needed.

Glen Hansard supported Eddie the last time he played the Hammersmith Apollo and it's clear the pair are great friends. I first saw him years ago playing with his band The Frames in a tiny venue in London but in many ways he seems to suit a larger stage and the acoustic guitar. His set is very enjoyable and Hansard also tells great stories between his songs. One is about how in the early 90s they were working in a studio in Dublin and heard someone saying "sounds good!" He looked up and it was Bob Dylan. Turns out Dylan was working in the opposite studio. When he shook his hand he told Dylan he was never going to wash it again. A few days later the band got a call asking them to support Dylan at his show at the Hammersmith Apollo and that was the first time he had ever been on that stage, where he was sitting tonight.

At the very end of the set he sang Daniel Johnston's song Devil Town a cappela at the edge of the stage, getting the crowd to sing along at the end. All in all a very enjoyable set from a great Irish man.